This is the view out my window at sunrise on my first morning in New Zealand’s South Island. I am staying with a small tour group at a remote sheep ranch on the banks of Lake Pukaki. The lake’s color is difficult to pinpoint. Is it teal? Milky turquoise? Aqua marine? Whatever the color, the water is at once clear and opaque, a perfect reflective surface.
We feel really and truly in the middle of nowhere, having driven for nearly an hour on a rough dirt road to get to the former ranch hands’ hut. Gently undulating fields surround us, bounded by trees and, farther out, dark blue-green mountains. It’s all pristine nature and fresh air, a different kind of sensory overload than found in urban bustle.
Out of the frame on the right towers powerful Mount Cook, called Aoraki in Maori, which means “cloud piercer.” That day we hike in Aoraki’s shadow and watch clouds swirl over and around the peak, which is blanketed in snow. In spite of it being the middle of summer, huge chunks of dirty blue ice float in the lake that is the terminus of our hike. Jackets come out of packs to cover bare arms and we sit down to munch on sandwiches, all the while being entertained by the spectacular dance of light, cloud, and shadow swirling around the peaks above us. It’s barren, rocky, and chilly here at the base of the cloud piercer but also enchanting, mysterious.
That night I wake up in the middle of the night, after the moon has risen and set. Orion the archer is hanging in the sky above the lake surrounded by more stars than I’ve seen since I went camping in the Rocky Mountains as a kid. I can see part of the Milky Way spread from one corner of my window to the other. Just as I am marveling at the breath-taking sight of it all, a shooting star flares in the sky next to Orion. With a contented sigh, I snuggle further under my blankets and fall back to sleep.
I could get used to this.
 "Pinterest")
Leave a Reply